


Soldier keep on marchin’ on (Head down ‘til the work is done)

by admirabletragedy



Series: Whumptober 2020 [28]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Accidents, Fic, Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Non-graphic injury tw, Stitches tw, blood tw, no.28, whumptober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admirabletragedy/pseuds/admirabletragedy
Summary: Day 28 • Accidents“Five-o, is this really a good idea?”Five glances over his shoulder and sends his brother a look, “You said you can stitch.”Klaus nods slowly, unsure of himself, “I can…” he stops as they reach the infirmary doors, “Doesn’t make this a good idea, though.”
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves
Series: Whumptober 2020 [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946944
Comments: 12
Kudos: 146
Collections: Whumptober





	Soldier keep on marchin’ on (Head down ‘til the work is done)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OverlyObsessed223](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlyObsessed223/gifts).



> Title is from the song “Soldier,” by Fleurie
> 
> • For @OverlyObsessed223 because their tua fics are fantastic and I always enjoy reading them!

Five hisses as he draws in a breath, instinctively releasing the knife from his grip and tucking his injured arm close to his chest. 

Years of training with a knife-wielding brother and his anger issues and Five still wasn’t prepared for his attacker to take a swipe at his forearm. _Fuck_ , it was a sloppy mistake.

Ignoring the throb of pain protesting any movement, Five grabs the suited man’s arm, ramming his fist into the man's wrist — knocking the knife out of the way — before utilizing the resulting momentum to tug him down by the lapels of his suit, slamming him into Five’s knee with a crunch. 

The man goes down swiftly — but recovers just as quickly — and moves to grab Five’s leg as he hits the ground, but Five is faster, and he steps on the offending hand before jumping to where his knife had fallen.

Unfortunately, he needs to use his right arm for the toss. Fortunately, he's a trained assassin, and the knife flies from his grip with an accuracy unmatched to all but Diego, ending the agent’s life instantly.

Dropping the knife — the agents are all on the ground, growing cold — Five wraps his hand around his left wrist.

Steeling himself, Five draws in a breath and jumps away from the mess he’s created with an exhale. 

He lands in the kitchen of the manor, startling Klaus, who steps back, a hand pressed against his chest.

“Christ on a pogo stick, you need to invest in a bell!” 

Five scoffs, "Wouldn't need to if you remembered you have a teleporting brother."

Klaus squints at him, pointing at him accusingly before drawing his hand to his mouth, "That's... That's a damn good point but does not excuse you trying to send me to an early grave." He pauses, looking to the side, "No offense, Benji."

Suddenly, Five can see Klaus' expression shifting to something like worry, and he straightens, no longer leaning against the counter. “Uh, Five, why are you covered in blood?”

Five shifts his weight, _he doesn’t have time for this_ , “It's not mine.”

If anything, Klaus looks more concerned, “Yeah, hate to break it to you but that doesn't answer my question… like _at all_.”

Five opens his mouth to ask where Grace is but stops himself before he can, biting his cheek as he remembers she’s no longer here.

Five returns to the present abruptly, looking up at Klaus and squinting at his brother in consideration.

His eyes pause on the army vest and the glinting silver dog tags that permanently lie around Klaus’ neck. 

“You know how to stitch?” Five asks, voice growing hopeful.

If Klaus is surprised by the question, he recovers quickly, “Yeah. Had to.”

Five makes a mental note to ask him about that but otherwise drops it.

“Fantastic. Come on.” He doesn't wait for Klaus to respond, setting out in a brisk walk to the infirmary.

“Five-o, is this really a good idea?” _Good, he decided to follow_.

Five glances over his shoulder and sends his brother a _look_ , “You said you can stitch.”

Klaus nods slowly, unsure of himself, “I _can_ …” he stops as they reach the infirmary doors, “Doesn’t make this a good idea, though.”

Five levels out a breath, they really need to work on getting Klaus to understand they trust him. 

Not that his brother has much of a reason to believe them, having spent years attempting to them about Ben— years in which none of them had believed he was telling the truth.

“If you say you can do it, I trust you, Klaus,” Five exhales as he sits on the side of the closest cot, his legs dangling off the edge.

Klaus shoots him a disbelieving look but starts preparing to help him anyway, reaching for a cloth and soaking it in the nearby sink.

Stepping in front of him, Klaus holds out his hand — **_HELLO_** — and Five rests his arm on it obediently. The room is silent as Five observes Klaus wrapping his hand around Five’s wrist, holding it still. 

Usually, a cut like this wouldn’t hinder him, but the agent had managed to strike the same area as his former — not yet healed — cut.

Klaus is gingerly wiping the skin around the wound, and Five notices his brother's hands are steady as he concentrates on the task. 

He’s proud of Klaus overcoming his addictions — _of course, he is_ — but he selfishly wishes he had that kind of motivation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can hear Delores saying that he _just hasn't tried_ , and the memory of _her_ sends a pang through his heart.

Klaus lets go of his wrist, and Five rests his arm on his leg as his brother reaches for the suturing kit they keep in the cabinet. _Perks of being a child soldier_ , Five thinks darkly _._

Methodically, Klaus snaps on gloves, holding a curved needle over the sink and sterilizing it with rubbing alcohol.

Returning to the cot, Klaus pauses, holding the needle and suture in hand, “You’re sure about this?”

Five nods, miffed, “ _Yes_ , Klaus.”

His brother moves beside him, leaning over Five’s arm, where it rests on his leg.

Klaus doesn’t hesitate, holding the cut closed with one hand and pulling the needle through Five's skin.

Looking away, Five examines his brother instead. Klaus is fully absorbed in his task, his brows furrowed as he bites his lip in concentration. 

His hair has grown longer, Five notes; now that he’s staying at the manor, his curls are growing out healthily, long enough that he can push strands behind his ears.

A particular pull against Five's wound makes him tense, and Klaus mutters an apology under his breath.

Five doesn’t bother to reply, focused on studying Klaus’ tattoos. 

Of course, the circled umbrella is a familiar sight. _He’s not going to think about finding Klaus in the Apocalypse. Absolutely not._

Five looks at the skull resting on Klaus’ shoulder, **_Sky Soldiers_ **. It ripples as Klaus moves his arm, and Five can’t help but think of Klaus fighting in the war. 

Five's never been to Vietnam — nor had he ever witnessed the war — but he does his best to imagine Klaus fighting there, his boots coated in mud, and a gun slung across his back.

It’s almost unbelievable, Five thinks, that he can envision his brother in such a place.

Then again, Klaus had always been immersed in the dark and mysterious. 

Five recalls the writing on Klaus’ walls.

They share that habit, but while Five’s walls are coated in equations, Klaus’ are inscribed with nonsensical statements and questions.

Their siblings had always been uncomfortable reading the script that lined Klaus' walls— all but Five and Ben.

Maybe Ben enjoyed Klaus’ company, willing to sit on Klaus’ bed and read, letting hours slip by without paying attention to the scribbles he leaned against.

Five, though, was intrigued by the writing; he'd spend hours scanning the colorful walls, trying to spot allusions, metaphors, and hyperboles. 

Klaus has never explained them and Five has never asked. _Some things are best left unknown._

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Five doesn’t realize Klaus has finished until he hears the metal lid of the trash can opening, and sees Klaus tossing in his gloves.

Looking down, Five spots the neat rows of stitches lining his arm.

Noiselessly, Five slides down from the bed, pausing as he reaches the door, turning to see Klaus closing up the suture kit.

Klaus lifts his head to look at him — as though sensing his gaze — and Five leans against the doorframe, “Thank you, Klaus.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow, taken aback by Five’s gratitude, but nods before turning back to the kit.

Satisfied, Five pushes away from the door, heading down the hallway.

* * *

Reaching his door, Five can hear Klaus’ voice — audibly, he's engaged in a one-sided conversation — drifting through the house, and Five smiles. He's glad that Ben has been there for their brother; he's glad they have each other. 

Now, Five just needs to show Klaus that he has the others too.

But that’s a problem for another day, Five thinks, collapsing onto the bed, for now, it’s time for sleep.


End file.
